Like a Romantic Novel
by tuuliii
Summary: Isobel and Lord Merton have a bittersweet moment after the dinner in 6.5.
1. Chapter 1: After the Dinner

_**AN: Hello again! I hope you enjoy this little peace I wrote after re-watching season 6. All mistakes are mine and I'm sorry if there are many. I tried to be thorough but you never catch all of them. Enjoy!**_

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_Like a Romantic Novel_

_Chapter 1: After the Dinner_

It was an odd and scary thing to witness. The Dowager Countess of Grantham, who never let her deepest emotions show in front of people, had never been this obviously distressed before -at least not in the sight of Isobel Crawley. Of course, to witness your own son vomit blood all over the dining table and not be able to do anything to help must have been horrific.

Her shaking hands hold on to the walking stick like her life depended on it and she clung to it with such force her knuckles had turned white. Violets eyes were fixed on the darkness outside and the atmosphere in the car was somewhat tense. Isobel felt like comforting her, but she didn't dare to do so. She had put her arm around her when they had left Downton, but in the car the Dowager had retreated into her shell and had ignored any attempts of conversation. Isobel wanted to say something that would ease her shaken _friend_, but she couldn't think anything that would do justice for the moment and doubted trying would do any good.

She knew, of course, what losing a child felt like, but Matthew had not died in front of her eyes, had he? While Robert was still alive and likely wasn't going to die, the scene had been brutal. _Thank God Doctor Clarkson was there,_ Isobel thought as the car drove into the driveway of the Dower house. Everyone had been so focused on Robert and Cora they had almost forgotten the matriarch of the family. When Cora had taken her rightful place at her husbands' side, Isobel had gone to stand by Violet, who had been paler than a ghost.

"We're here", Lord Merton said from the front seat, where he had sat to give the women some privacy. His chauffeur stopped the vehicle in front of the stairs and got out to open the door for them. Isobel helped Lady Grantham out of the car and started walking towards the door with her. Spratt was already standing there, holding it open for them. "I'm just going to make sure Denker looks after her properly tonight. I won't be long,'' Isobel said to Lord Merton, who had decided to wait outside.

"Take as long as you need. I'll wait for you."

It seemed to take longer than usual for Violet to get up the stairs. Isobel was right behind her, ready to catch her if she fell. "Good evening, your Ladyship," the butler greeted them in his usual dry tone. "Evening, Spratt..." Lady Grantham's voice was not much louder than a whisper. These words were the first ones she had uttered since they had left the Abbey.

The door close and Spratt helped his Lady out of her coat. He was about to do the same with Isobel, but she raised her hand as a no. "I'm not staying. Lord Merton is driving me home and I can't keep him waiting for long.'' Spratt nodded to her as an answer. ''Or should I stay and tell him to leave?''

The Dowager just waved her hand at her. ''No, you don't have to stay. I will be alright.''

''Alright then,'' Isobel answered and then proceeded to talk to Violets maid, who was coming down the stairs. ''Lady Grantham has just had a shock. I trust her into your hands, Denker.'' The woman had probably been preparing things for the night in the bedroom. "And maybe give her some brandy,'' she whispered to Denker as she walked past her.

"You can rely on me, ma'am."

Isobel reached for her friends had and squeezed it. "Doctor Clarkson was quite certain he'll pull through. Everything will be alright.'' She tried to sound calm and convincing but didn't know if it worked. ''Now you should try to get some sleep...good night cousin Violet."

"Good night Isobel, though I doubt I'll sleep a wink... Oh, I nearly forgot; Edith is going to telephone me when the operation is done. Do you want to be informed as well?"

"Yes, tell Edith to telephone me, so you won't have to worry about it," Isobel answered. "I'll be off now. I can't keep Lord Merton waiting." Their hands parted and Isobel turned towards the door.

"Thank you..."

''There is no need to thank me.''

Spratt opened the door for her, and Isobel turned around to offer her cousin a warm smile before stepping out of the door. As it close behind her, she was once again faced by the darkness of the night.

This evening had been a painful reminder of their mortality. Nothing in life was permanent or certain and they didn't have a moment to waist.

The car stood patiently below the stairs, waiting for her. The elderly chauffeur opened the door for her, and she got in. Dickie was already inside. "How is she?" He asked after she had settled beside him.

"Shocked, of course, but Denker and Spratt will look after her. I offered to stay myself, but I think she preferred to be on her own. Edith has promised to telephone her the news, so she won't have to live in fear the whole night, unless the news are bad..."

The car started moving and Isobel did something that made Lord Merton startle in surprise. She took his hand. He didn't pull away, in fact he never wanted to let go of her again, so he wrapped his long fingers around her smaller ones in return. Dickie tried to look at her, but Isobel had turned her face towards the window. Even if he had seen her face, the darkness would have made it difficult to read her. For a few minutes there was nothing but the rumbling of the engine. Then she started talking.

"I know I've disappointed and hurt you, but I want you to know that I appreciate and cherish our friendship. I know it's not enough for you and Lord knows it's hard for me too, but it's the only thing I can offer. I hope you understand that..."

"You could _never_ disappoint me, Isobel. I'm content with the way things are, if it's what you want and feel comfortable with, because I still love you very much."

She turned to look at him and for the first time in a while a genuine smile decorated her face, while in his company. "You always talk with such elegance...you should have become a writer!"

"Nonsense! I wouldn't know where to start or what to write about."

"Maybe one day, you will."

"One day… I think today has reminded us all that life is short and we shouldn't keep waiting for the right moment, or do things we do not enjoy, because every day might be our last.'' While talking, Dickie moved closer to Isobel and put his other hand on top of their joined ones. ''If I died tomorrow, the only thing I would truly regret is not marrying you."

"Yes...but I still haven't changed my mind and you know very well Larry is the only person who can."

"But you would marry me, if my sons approved?''

"We have already had this conversation. I would, but I'm afraid that will not happen, because nothing will make them change their mind and I will not have my final years clouded by bitterness and hatred."

Isobel meant it, and he knew it. Yet every day he hoped and prayed that she would miraculously change her mind and marry him_. A man can dream_. He wanted nothing more, than to hold her in his arms while drifting away to sleep and wake up next to her in the morning. If only he could make her realize that she was more important to him than his sons. To his advantage, matters were possibly going to change soon, thanks to Larry's new fiancé, Amelia, who had shown interest in meeting Isobel. Maybe she could change Larry's mind. After all, she was a kind and gentle soul.

Dickie gently stroked the soft skin under his fingers, and it sent pleasant shivers down Isobel's spine. It had been a long time since anyone had touched her with such gentleness. It was a feeling she would love to get used to. All the attention she had gotten from him, the flowers, the letters and invitations had made her feel wanted and cherished. It was nice to know that someone was genuinely interested in her, even though she had fought against it in the beginning.

''Not marrying you wouldn't be my only regret,'' Dickie said with a hint of sadness in his voice. ''Raising such arrogant and selfish sons is something I will regret as long as I live. I should have been more involved in their childhood, but I'm afraid we were a typical aristocratic family. Ada spent more time with them than I and always gave them everything. I should have had more authority over all of them.''

''Don't trouble yourself with it too much. You were both to blame and now it's a thing of the past now. Besides, you can still be a good father to them, can't you?'' Dickie knew she was just trying to make him feel better, so his only answer was a silent grunt.

The car slowed down and stopped. Their hands parted. "Thank you for driving me and Lady Grantham, it was most kind." Isobel thanked, as the chauffeur opened the door for her. She stepped out into the night and made her way to the other side of the vehicle. Dickie was already standing there. "I felt like it was the least I could do. I felt terribly powerless in the dining room."

''I think everyone felt powerless…''

Dickie started walking towards the front door of Crawley house beside her. He had always admired it. Maybe he wasn't meant to live in a big manor, where it was always cold and drafty.

Only the drawing room was dimly lit. Knowing Isobel, she would have given her maid the night off, and told her to keep one room lit. She would lock up herself when she got back.

The night was calm and silent. Only the click of Isobel's heels and a slight breeze were to be heard. The white door was soon right in front them. He absolutely hated to be parted from her.

"Would you like me to telephone you when I know more about Robert's condition?" Isobel asked.

"If it's not too much trouble... I hope everything goes well. Cora was terribly upset, and I can't blame her."

She smiled shyly at him. "I'll telephone you later then. Good night, Lord Merton."

"Good night, Mrs. Crawley..."

But instead of turning away he stepped closer and caught her eyes. Tonight he felt brave -or stupid enough to risk their friendship. Isobel was standing in front of him and she was absolutely beautiful in her brown dress and black coat. His hand came up to touch her cheek. Her eyes closed and she leaned into his touch. His height seemed increased by the darkness and suddenly Isobel was trapped between the wall and him. Dickie didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable or afraid so he positioned himself so that she could get away is she wanted to. Isobel didn't move an inch.

Slowly he leaned forward and kissed her. It was sweet and passionate. His hands came to rest on her hips as he kissed her harder. Isobel kissed him back equally. They had kissed before, but never with such emotion. Soon her back was pressed against the cold brick wall, her hands grabbing his overcoat. His hands roamed over her body and she moaned into his mouth.

It was dangerous and she knew it. Someone could easily catch them and start spreading nasty rumors. Even more dangerous was the fact that she was enjoying it immensely. It would be difficult to turn him down again after this, but in the heat of the moment she didn't care. The only thing she cared about were his lips, his tongue and his hands on her body.

When they stopped to catch their breath, her heart was beating so fast she feared it would burst and she could feel how her cheeks were burning. It was a blessing he could not see the redness of her face in the dark. There they were. Two people who loved each other but had been separated by a revengeful family. It sounded like a plot from a romantic novel. Weather the ending was happy, neither of them could tell.

"I hope I haven't ruined things for us," His voice was nervous, which made Isobel want to reassure him that he had done no such thing. She had enjoyed it immensely. "I'm sorry if I offended you."

Isobel shook her head. He was such a gentleman. "You haven't offended me, not at all..."

"I love you. I've never loved anyone as much as you, and I never will. You are the love of my life, Isobel, and I want to spend all the time I have with you." He started kissing her neck which sent a pleasant weave of shivers through her.

Isobel chuckled. "Why is it that you always manage to lay you heart on the table when we're on our own?" Dickie looked deep into her brown eyes. "Because I want you to see how much you mean to me. I know it's not very English of me to say it, but I believe we should make the most of the time we have left.'' No answer came.

"I know you don't love me as much as I love you," He said after a while, in a way that made her heart ache.

"Don't say that!"

"Why shouldn't I, when it's true?"

"I _do_ love you, and that's why I can't marry you." Isobel raised her arm and put it on his shoulder. ''Maybe we should spend more time with each other in the future, write more often. We're friends after all…''

Dickie laughed. ''Friends? Is that what this is called?'' He backed away from her and threw his arms in the air with frustration. After all they had just been kissing each other passionately.

''Don't be like that. Aren't we too old for this?''

''I never thought I would fall in love with anyone, but then I met you. I feel like twenty again while in your company. And we're not quite done yet.''

''_I_ never thought I could love again. Not after Matthew, but life never stops surprising us, does it?'' Even if she didn't show it, Isobel was just as frustrated with their situation as he was. While he tried to win her over every time they met, she tried to accept their fate in a more silent manner without giving him too much hope.

''I should be going, or my chauffeur will start wondering… I wish I could stay.''

_I wish you could stay too_.

''Kiss me before you go.''

Dickie did as he was told and came up to her again. He caressed her face as he first placed a kiss on her forehead, before claiming her lips. This kiss was long and sweet, and it felt _right_. His arms were pulling her against him, the warmth consuming her body. Dickie was able to smell her perfume and a slight touch of lavender. It was her smell. When they finally broke apart, they stood in silence for a moment, his hand still gently stoking her neck. His adoring gaze made her blush again.

Dickie then raised her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on it. ''Good night, Isobel,'' he wished and bowed his head.

''Good night, Dickie. I'll call you, when I know more and drive safely.'' She turned around and reached to open her front door. Light illuminated her face and she stepped inside. Isobel gave her suitor one last smile before closing the door behind her. He stood there for a while longer, wondering if kissing her had been real, or just a beautiful dream.

_tbc_

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_**AN: This was meant as a oneshot, but now that I think of it, there might be potential for a series under this same title about the happenings in s6. What do you think? A series of oneshots, or separate stories? Anyway, thanks for reading:) **_

_**-T**_


	2. Chapter 2: Lets have tea

**AN: So sorry for the dreadfully l****ong wait. I have been very busy and stressed, but I finally found time and motivation to finish this!**

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Chapter 2: Lets have tea.

It had been two long weeks since the awful dinner. Fortunately, Robert was well on the mend, and the house was about to be opened to the public for one day in the name of charity, since Mary and Tom had been rather easy to persuade. If Robert had been on his feet when the decision had been made, it wouldn't have been so easy. In some matters, he was very much like his mother. In the afternoon of the sunny day, Isobel was having tea with Violet, who was of course most displeased about the plan. _Why would anyone want to come? It's a perfectly ordinary house!_

Naturally, the topic of the conversation turned to Isobel's ex fiancé as it so often did. "How is Lord Merton?" The question was asked in a manner so very typical to Violet. She wanted to know everything about her cousin's life, and furthermore, she absolutely loved teasing her this way.

"As he always is."

"And you? Are you weakening?"

"...No." Lady Grantham looked at her in a way that said _Aren't you?_

Isobel raised her eyes from her cup and gave the older woman a warning gaze. _Drop the subject!_ "_No._"

Honestly, sometimes her teasing was too much. Violet knew well enough she felt most uncomfortable talking about him, now more than ever, in fact. She hadn't heard from him at all after their encounter two weeks earlier and it bothered her more than she wanted to admit. What bothered her even more was that Violent _was_ able to read her like an open book and by now was probably wondering why she was being so short with her.

"Have you heard from him lately?"

"No, not since he drove us home.''

Lady Grantham raised her hands in defeat and Isobel sipped her tea again.

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When the news about the hospital reached her ears, Isobel got the perfect opportunity to send Dickie a letter. After all, he was part of the board and she had promised to keep him informed about possible developments. This time, the news were rather delicious as well. She and Cora had won the battle.

Not only had the Dowager Countess been sacked from her position, but she would be replaced by Cora, who would on top of it all be given even more responsibility than her. She was going to be furious and Isobel did not want to be the one to break her the news, none of them did. The Royal York would get the honor of writing to her. _Poor Violet…I do feel rather bad for her._

She secretly hoped that he would have come to see her without an invitation, but Dickie had stayed quiet. Isobel would never admit it outside her house, but after their _encounter, _she had missed him terribly. That's why she picked up a pen and a sheet of paper rather excitedly, when she sat down on her desk.

If dismissing the Dowager from her position had been a surprise, even more surprising were the news she read from her morning paper the next day. After breakfast Isobel sat down on her favourite chair with a cup of tea and almost choked on it, when her eyes fell on the paper's announcement section. Larry Grey was engaged to a Miss Amelia Cruikshank.

Well, he was the heir to his father's title and the estate, so a marriage had only been a matter of time, though what kind of a woman would want to marry him, she couldn't tell. Ether she was way too good for him, or just as cruel and cold as he. For Dickies sake Isobel hoped it would be the first. He didn't deserve a nasty daughter-in-law in addition to his sons. What the poor man had done to deserve such treatment, she wondered.

But why hadn't Dickie told her about this before? She would ask him, when he came for tea. He had asked if he could do so the day before the house opening and it had made Isobel more thrilled than she wanted to admit.

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When Dickie arrived and Isobel opened the door for him, she saw that he had not come on his own. Miss Cruikshank was with him. She was a fashionably dressed, elegant young woman, whose handshake was firm, but whose eyes were almost as sharp as Violets.

Isobel smiled at her, but even though she seemed sweet and kind, something told her that the woman was nothing more than acting. If that was the case, then Amelia hid her true character much better than her fiancé. Naturally Dickie was completely oblivious to the fact that Larry had chosen a bride who was very much his equal. After all, men tended to marry women that resembled their mothers.

Isobel had never met the infamous Lady Merton, only seen a photograph of her -and she was very happy that Ada was not able to rise from the grave to haunt her. From what she had heard Lady Merton had been a cold and stony woman who had married her husband only for the title and position. Everyone thought her sons took after their late mother in every way, though both had inherited their father's handsome looks.

The trio sat in the charming drawing room of Crawley House with their tea. Through their visit Amelia was on her best behavior. She was polite and smiled a lot, but at the same time her kindness made Isobel feel uncomfortable. Her exotic perfume smelled expensive and it was obvious that she came from a rich family. _Well, she wouldn't be marrying Larry if she wasn't, because I very much doubt this is a love match._

Amelia assured her that Larry was not her enemy and would not put up a fight against his father's wish to marry again _several times_. Her words did not exactly reassure Isobel and it only made her think even more that Amelia and Larry had some sort of a twisted plan, and she had _no_ wish to be part of their game. Why would they want them to get married after all? There was no logic in it.

''So, you work at the hospital! Lord Merton tells me you were nurse?'' Amelia was sitting perfectly straight and the smile she wore seemed almost glued to her face.

''Yes, though I haven't actively worked as one since the war. I am currently working as the almoner.''

''And you do it splendidly!'' A hint of blush crept onto Isobel's face.

''You flatter me too much, but I must have done something right. After all, I get to keep my position.'' Isobel took a bite of her biscuit and remembered why she had asked Dickie to come in the first place. ''Oh, that reminds me, The Royal York wrote to and told us that the hospitals _are_ to be joined and that the Dowager Lady Grantham is to step down from her position as the president and Lady Grantham is to be her successor! I am overjoyed that I won't have to be the one to tell her.''

''Is the Dowager Lady Grantham very scary? I've heard many stories of her,'' Amelia inquired.

_Oh, I wish you get to meet her soon. If I can't work you out, she can._

''Not scary exactly, just very…authoritative.'' Dickie chuckled. He had known Violet all his life and everyone around him had always been more or less terrified of her. The woman had a sharp tongue and was known for it all over the country. Isobel, however seemed to be more than a match for her.

''Oh dear, do you think she will be very hurt when they tell her?''

''Yes, especially when our hospital was the reason Robert's life was saved. I think she thought it would win more people over to her side.'' Amelia shifted on her spot, while her eyes stayed fixed on Isobel. She was trying to see through her and determine whether she was as easy to fool as Dickie.

''I just wish the Dowager won't give poor Lady Grantham a scolding. It's not her fault, but their changing positions won't please her at all.''

''That's exactly what cousin Cora was afraid of herself, but I guess after 35 years she would have built up some resistance. Lord knows I have, and I've only lived here for 13 years, but then again, I was never really afraid of her.'' A laugh escaped her lips, which made Dickie smile in return. This small reaction did not go unnoticed by Amelia. _He is definitely in love with her._

_''_I must say I am pleased about the result of this ridiculous argument, though. Reformations are coming, whether we like it or not!''

After the three of them had had tea and mingled more about this and that, it was time for Dickie and his future daughter in law to leave. Isobel felt relieved. The young woman had been eyeing her the whole time and at some point, it had started to feel rather oppressive.

''It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Crawley,'' Amelia said with a bright voice as she bid her goodbye. ''I hope we meet again in the future.''

''The pleasure was all mine...''

Amelia went outside, whilst Dickie stayed inside for a moment longer. ''I'm going to take her to the Abbey tomorrow. Will you go as well?''

''I don't think so. I already know everything about it and I'd only be in the way. But I do hope enough people show up for it to be successful.''

''Pity…'' He had been hoping for her to attend so she could get to know Amelia better and he would be able to spend time in her company. This development with Amelia had given him new hope. ''Do you like her? I do. She's terribly nice!'' He continued with excitement.

''I'm sure she is…''

''Isn't this encouraging?'' Finally, things were starting to look brighter in his life. Maybe Amelia was exactly the person his family needed. If she was able to change Larry's mind, then nothing was standing between him and his happiness. Who knew, Larry might even become gentler and more welcoming towards Isobel, having found a woman in his life as well.

''I think we shouldn't get overly excited. Let's wait and see what happens. Why didn't you tell me about her?'' Isobel didn't want her true feelings about Amelia to shine through, not when Dickie seemed so pleased, so she tried not to sound too pessimistic.

''I wanted you to meet her in person before making an impression.''

''Well now I have met her.'' _Though I'm not sure how much of a difference it made... _

''I'm afraid I must be going now. I can't keep her waiting and I still have some work to do today. Please write to me when you hear more about the hospital business.''

''I will.''

''Goodbye then.'' They were standing in the hall, sheltered from prying eyes, so he closed the distance between them and kissed her. She couldn't help but feel happy when his lips crashed hers again after over two weeks. She wouldn't say it out loud to him, but she had missed him every day since and had feared things might be awkward. When they parted, Dickie put on his hat and gave her a one last wide smile. He was evidently overjoyed about this new…development.

After the door had closed Isobel sighed deeply and the mess, she had gotten herself into. _Terribly nice indeed._

tbc

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_**AN: So happy to be finally continuing this story, like I promised! So sorry about the possible mistakes, I am sure there are many. This draft lay untouched on my laptop for rather long, so I also have to apologize if it is actually as bad as I think it is...**_

**_-T _**


	3. Chapter 3: I wish

**AN: Thank you so much for all the reviews, I love you! **

**There might be some silly mistakes with the tenses. I wrote this in the course of couple of days, managed to completely mess them up and only noticed it while editing:')**

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_Chapter 3: I wish..._

Tea with Amelia had been an eye-opening experience. Since Violet had confirmed their mutual suspicions about her, Isobel had been determined to show her she was more than a match for her. She hadn't really believed she had gone to see her, until the car had stopped in front of the house.

Cavenham Park had been as beautiful as ever, and the garden was in full bloom this time of year. Amelia had once more pretended to like her, even though she knew that the Dowager Countess had busted her plan. Fortunately, Dickie had been away, and Larry always avoided her like the plague. Isobel had been in no mood for his love talk, after talking to Amelia.

Violet had been right. Larry and Amelia just wanted to get rid of his father. If Dickie got remarried, they wouldn't have to worry about his well-being anymore. Of course, Larry despised Isobel too much to approach her himself, so his fiancé was doing the work for him. _Yes, but you see,_ _I don't want you to talk for him. I want to hear him speak for himself. _

She doubted very much that the honorable Larry Grey would talk to her himself. In her opinion there was nothing honorable in him and his future wife was not much better. However much the boys had loved their late mother, it did not justify the apparent hostility towards their father, who in Isobel's opinion is one of the sweetest men she has ever met. Kind, intelligent and rational, though recently she had started to think of him as little less rational, especially when it came to the matters of the heart.

In her head the situation they were in didn't make sense because she has always been part of a family where love was present. In her childhood, her own marriage and with the Crawleys.

_But it's different in the aristocracy. They didn't marry for love. They married because it was convenient. Robert and Cora are an exception. Their union was business, but they were accidentally well_ suited.

Isobel closed the door of her own home behind her and put her purse on the small table. She would still have time to do some gardening before having dinner. It always helped her to take her mind off unpleasant things.

When Dickie had proposed, he had said it wasn't out of loneliness, but of love. Yes, he loved her, but Isobel couldn't bring herself to believe that loneliness didn't play a part in it too. She had never felt particularly lonely, but there were times when having another person by your side would be nice. Dinner was one of them. She remembers vividly the time when Dickie had barged into her drawing room without any warning, while she was in the midst of eating her soup. She had apologized, but he had just seemed amused by it.

She chuckled at the memory and changed into her gardening clothes. After putting on the blue skirt, white shirt and her usual hat, Isobel made her way towards the front door again. Her maid was cleaning in the hall.

"Oh, Mrs. Crawley!" she addressed her, and Isobel turned around to face the young, round faced girl who had worked for her a couple of years. "What is it, Annie?"

"Mrs. Field was wondering if you are having your dinner here tonight. She wasn't sure."

"Yes, I am staying home tonight and going to the Abbey tomorrow. I might have been rather unspecific with her." Her elderly cook's hearing was not the best anymore. Isobel had tried to talk to her louder than normal, but she still sometimes misheard her.

"Very well ma'am...I wonder, since you will be away, could I have the night off tomorrow?" Annie fiddled with her apron and Isobel smiled to herself. She was certain her maid had something going on with the village postman. She has seen the two of them giggling at the back door and the girl had been very distracted lately.

Annie looked at her nervously, though Isobel had tried to show her that she is not someone who should be feared. She has never liked it, so she has always treated her employees with kindness and received the same treatment in return. She knew that Violet ruled her servants with fear and Isobel didn't like it at all. They were all humans after all, even Spratt and Denker.

"Yes, you can, but see that you are back by eleven." She put on her gloves while noticing how the girls face lit up. "Thank you, ma'am, I will!" she said and continued her work.

_Oh dear, I'm probably going to have to find a new maid...and possibly a new cook, if Mrs. Field gets too deaf and wants to retire._

When Isobel was moments later digging the soil in her garden, she felt rather annoyed that she once again had to go through the process of hiring a new maid. At the same time, she felt rather envious of Annie.

When at seven o'clock she was sitting alone in the drawing room with her dinner, and when she later turned off the lights and went upstairs to her bedroom, she wondered what life with Dickie would be like? What would they talk about at dinner or before going to bed? What would their arguments be like? Would she be as happy with him as she was with Reginald?

She didn't feel lonely but having him by her side would be good. They had proved it many times. Crawley House was not particularly big, but sometimes it felt enormous when she was the only occupant. Isobel was not capable of imagining what living alone at Cavenham Park must feel like. Over time, she had gotten the picture, that he was a very lonely man and had been one for a long time.

While sitting by her dressing table on her dressing gown, she mindlessly stared at her reflection on the mirror and toyed with her wedding ring. _I will reconsider if Larry speaks to me himself and acts respectfully...and I do love him..._

In that moment, she definitely felt lonely.

* * *

With a hint of disappointment in his step, Dickie made his way to his desk in the library and laid down multiple papers he was carrying. He had been out all day, first walking around the grounds with his agent and then renewing a tenancy with one of the farmers. It had been a long day. Why hadn't Isobel told him about her visit? His heart skipped a beat every time she was around and the thought of having her around made him positively giddy.

His butler had told her Isobel had had tea with Amelia. According to him, they had talked a good while in the was tea laid out on the side table as well and he poured himself a cup. It was already rather cold, but he didn't want to complain about it, so he drank a cup of lukewarm tea. _Surely it must be a good sign if she voluntarily came here to see her..._

Though Isobel's visit had improved his mood, a familiar tiredness settled around him. He looked around but saw that no one seemed to be around, not even staff. Even though there were multiple people living in the house with him, he rarely saw anyone. Larry and Amelia were usually on their own or staying in London. The wedding was soon upon them, but he had fortunately washed his hands off the preparations. The reception and ceremony would be held at Amelia's home, so they wouldn't have to worry about it anyway.

The only thing the wedding made him wonder about, was what his own wedding to Isobel would have been like. His second wedding. With Ada, the whole thing had felt wrong, but it was how things were done in those days.

After laying the empty cup back on the table, Dickie walked through the library door into the hall, and saw his butler of twenty years, who was apparently about to clean some candlesticks.

"I'm going upstairs. Could you inform Mr. Grey that I have returned, when you see him?" The butler turned around and nodded politely at him.

"Of course, My Lord."

He hummed in reply and started climbing the stairs. When he reached the top, he felt out of breath; another thing that had been bothering him. Since spring he had started feeling tired and out of breath from even light activities. From time to time there was also a strange tingling feeling in his tongue. _Either I'm just getting old, or this is a symptom of something worse. _

Either way, he didn't think too much of it.

In his room, Dickie settled down on top of the bed with a good book he had recently picked up. He knew he probably ought to see a doctor, but procrastinating felt like a better option. Maybe the symptoms would go away with time. Maybe he was just tired.

He also ought to talk to Isobel about his potential health problem, but he didn't want to worry her. She would only fuss and start worrying about him. She has had enough worries and sorrow in her life.

Dickie wanted to write to her -or telephone to ask what she and Amelia had talked about, but he didn't want to be a nuisance. Sometimes he felt like a fool for trying so hard to win her over. _I know you don't love me as much as I love you. _That thought had been nagging him for quite long, but that moment in from of Crawley House had been the first time he had said the words out loud. She had denied it and they had also kissed quite passionately, but still he felt like he had always been more emotionally involved in their relationship that her.

On the other hand, he was impatient to hear from her again. Maybe he could go to visit her? _I will write to her tomorrow_.

He missed her, but he had gotten used to the feeling by now. He missed her every second they were not together. He kept Isobel's photograph on his bedside table. It's was usually hidden between the pages of a book, so the servants wouldn't see that he kept the photograph of a woman beside his bed.

He held the picture in his hand, looked at it, and remembers how he got it. After requesting her picture, Isobel had laughed and fetched the photograph he was now holding and glancing longingly. I had been after she had accepted his proposal.

_It's couple of years old, but I have a few wrinkles less in it._

_No, you look beautiful._

_Thank you...you flatter me too much._

She had blushed adorably, and her hands had started toying with the pearls around her neck. When he had left, he had felt a long-lost joy within himself and there had been a lightness in his step. Somehow, the thought that she could actually say yes had seemed rather impossible. How could a woman like Isobel ever accept an old fool like him?

Dickie snapped away from the memory and tugged the picture between the unread pages of his book. He has always enjoyed reading, but today he was too tired to concentrate on the words. The day of walking is evident in the slight ache in his legs and his whole body feels exhausted.

After having read the same sentence for the fourth time, Dickie closed the book and put it back on his bedside table. He closed his eyes and decided to pass the time by resting before dinner because he knew it wouldn't affect his ability to fall asleep later in the evening.

The quietness of his bedroom surrounded him, and like so many times before, he thought how lonely he really was in this big house. He wanted a simple and quiet life, preferably with Isobel.

_I wish…_

tbc

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**_AN: I really want to write a Christmas story, but I have nothing decent in mind, so I'm wishing you a Merry Christmas in advance just in case I don't write anything._**

**_-T_**


	4. Chapter 4: Better see that you keep

**AN: Hey! After this unacceptably long time, here I am with another chapter! This is all down to you, kind stranger, who commented on all of my DA fics! You made me remember that I in fact have a story to finish. You also made my day! Life has been crazy and I had a lot of things to do during spring. so this chapter was forgotten for a while...**

**Cookies to everyone who knows where the quotes are from!**

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_Chapter 4: Better see that you keep what you have_

_Opportunity is not a lengthy visitor..._

Isobel realized this as she fled Cavenham Park, while trying to swallow the tears that were forcing their way into her eyes. She managed to get into the back of the car, where she gripped her purse tightly and squeezed her eyes shut. She would not break down in front of the driver. She would _not_.

The hope that had been woken by Larry's letter had changed into breath-taking sorrow. He was ill and there was nothing she, or anyone else could do. The anemia would finish him rather sooner than later and his children would finally be rid of him. That was what they had wanted all along. How utterly depressing.

_I'm not too sad about it. I've lived a good life. _

Suddenly, Isobel remember every time she had been unkind to him and it made her feel terrible. Every snarky comment and attempt to get rid of him and his romantic gestures. At the same time, she tried to re-live every happy moment they had shared. _How could I not see how much I truly love him? _

Why had she given up so easily? Why, when every time she had voiced her worries, Dickie had told her he didn't care about his sons or her rather common background. Why hadn't she listened?! Had the kisses they had shared meant anything to her?

A tear finally escaped her eye and she quickly wiped it away. Then the next and then the next, until she had to look for a handkerchief from her purse. There was nothing she could do to try and stop it. Breathing became harder as her emotions took over, but she was trying her hardest not to let it show. The driver's eyes were firmly fixed on the road ahead of them and he didn't seem to notice the heart wrenching scene behind him.

Now her only job was to keep quiet. _Just breathe deeply and concentrate on something else._

Easier said than done…

Her eyes fixed on the world outside, Isobel tried to calm herself down as the car took her back to Downton. She was relieved when she was finally, _finally_ out of the car and bidding the chauffeur goodbye with a slightly shaking voice and a fake smile. The man looked at her, puzzled, before getting back into the vehicle. The car ride had felt twice as long as usual.

Isobel did not want to go inside, so she quickly walked into the garden instead, and sat down on the white bench that was standing under an apple tree near the fence. Thank God there had been no other people around. She took off her blue hat and put it on the small table. The garden was her asylum and her pride.

Here, shielded from prying eyes, she could burst into tears. The handkerchief in her hand was already damp from the silent tears she has shed in the car. Now, sobs were escaping her mouth. She didn't have to stop them anymore; here she could cry as ugly as she wanted. That was what she needed.

_I love him. Oh God, I love him. _

Finally admitting it to herself had been the hardest part. She had grown to love him over their shared interests, his shameless talk of love and their secret kisses.

_I would have liked being married to you._

It broke her heart, and now she realized that she had lost the last chance they had. Damn her and her hardheadedness. They should have gone through with the marriage, no matter what other people thought. When had she started to care about other people's opinions anyway?

Isobel took a deep breath, wiped the tears off her cheeks and blew her running nose. Deep breaths. Her heartbeat slowed down from its frenzy and she calmed down to a point where she was just sitting on the shade of the tree and staring at…she couldn't really tell what. The windows of her house, the flowers she had seen so much trouble to grow, the vines that climbed up the wall, the blue sky… Anything that distracted her from the nightmare that was going on in her brain.

She remembered something her mother had told her long ago:

''_You may know what you need, but to get what you want, better see that you keep what you have.''_

_Better see that you keep what you have_…how utterly _ironic_.

Ironic to the point when she almost started crying again for the shear bitterness of her mother's words. At least now, they sounded bitter. She had lost everything, everyone. He husband, her only son, her old life and now her lover. She had made a terrible mistake. Who even was she anymore? Who was Isobel Crawley? She used to be passionate. Fierce, stubborn, kind. Those were all words she had associated herself with. In that very moment, she did not feel like any of those things. She felt old.

Old and sad. Wasn't that the truth?

There had not been many occasions in her life, when Isobel had felt like having a big, strong drink – and she had been drunk even fewer times, but this was one of those rare moments of weakness. When she had been young, Isobel had downed a couple drinks too much and ended up as a sloppy mess on their bathroom floor. This had been during the time when she and Reginald had desperately wanted children, but it had seemed like they were not able to conceive. She had once again started bleeding, and everything had just felt like too much. Her dear Reginald had comforted her and carried her to their bed where she had slept it off, until the next day she had found herself from the bathroom floor once more, throwing up.

There was no one to comfort her now though. And she couldn't even imagine the volume of the hangover she would have if she turned to drink. She had drunk a little too much champagne two Christmases ago and had paid the price the next morning. She shrugged in disgust.

A nice cup of tea. That was what she needed right now. Tea always made everything better, right?

Isobel took her hat and purse from the small table and stood up. She straightened her back and walked in through the back door as gracefully as she could in her disoriented state, though no one was there to see her. She put the purse down on a table and her eyes hit the mirror hanging above it. An old woman was staring back at her. Old and sad. She had grey hair and wrinkles. Her shoulders dropped once again and with her eyes squeezed shut, she cursed herself. _What a fool I've been._

She could hear her maid coming up the stairs. With the hat in her hand Isobel fled the hall into her own bedroom upstairs. When the door was securely closed behind her, she burst into tears again. Making her way to the bed, she kicked off her shoes, threw the hat on her dressing table and sat down on the soft mattress. What was wrong with her? She was acting like a stupid young girl.

_I love him. That's what was wrong. _

_How did I not realize it sooner, when we were so good together?_

It was too late now, wasn't it? A part of her old self was still constantly trying to think of a way to fix everything, a way out, but the disease was incurable. She couldn't marry him now; everybody would think of it as an act of pity rather than love and his children would be there to fight against it until they were both dead and buried. The clock ticked on as Isobel sat on the bed. The tears had dried on her cheeks, and her eyes were burning and itchy, and probably red as well. She felt stuffy and miserable.

She _had_ to pull herself together. Acting like this was _way_ too melodramatic for her taste. It reminded her of a bad love story. After a couple deep breaths more, she stood up and smoothed her dress. Dickie wasn't dead yet. With proper treatment he could have a couple of months more and Isobel would be there for him till the end. He deserved it after all the heartache she had caused him.

Maybe Doctor Clarkson could even take another look at him. It was a fool's hope, but she wanted to hold onto every last string of it. At the moment it didn't seem like much. _Fierce, stubborn, kind. _

Isobel was able to see her own reflection again. This time, she straightened her back again, and held her head high. If she wanted to make a change, she could not keep on acting like this. _He was not dead yet_. Maybe she still had time to make things better for them both. She loved him, and love was what they both needed now. A man who hadn't known real love for God knows how long, deserved a one last chance. If they got married, it wouldn't be out of pity, no, it would be out of love.

_Better see that you keep what you have._

She was not giving up on him. Her heart was still heavy with grief and staying here in the safety of her own bedroom felt much more desirable, but a plan had started to form in her mind. Tea and a visit to the Dower House, that was what she needed now.

tbc

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**AN: Thanks for reading! If it seemed messy, then think of it as a representation of Isobel's mental state:'D She's a mess and doesn't know how to handle her emotions. **

**T xxx**


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